Why I love Twilight

I've been poking around a lot online (some would call it "obsessed." "Some" would be my husband.) and reading stuff about Twilight--generally snark, some articles, interviews with the cast (some members more than others are represented in my searches.)

It appears that the great majority of the snarky writers and of the haters seem to be up in arms (Shocked!) about a teenybopper book catering to an allegedly anti-feminist idea of a girl wanting a knight in shining armor and men being fairly dominant. Another group of them feels that a message of abstinence is antiquated and also anti-feminist. Most do not understand why, on Stephenie Meyer's sparkly earth, would grown-ass wimmins be reading these books, watching the movie, and salivating over them both. The general opinion seems to be that these are books FOR TEENAGERS, so ONLY teenagers should read and enjoy them. Anyone over the age of 16 who loves them is gross and wrong and needs to get a life. (Um, Harry Potter much?)

I sincerely beg of these people that they get off their high horses, take the sticks out of their collective bums, go soak their heads, or whichever command will get them off my dazzling, vampire-loving back.

Am I saying you're not allowed to dislike or hate these books? Not at all! What I find disheartening though, and there is a LOT of it on the web for any and every subject, is the poisonous disdain for people who do enjoy something you find stupid. As if you are the learned and wise one, while the 40 bajillion people who love scrapbooking, those creepily realistic stuffed cats, genre fiction, and Jesus are stupid and beneath you. And I'm a certified snob, myself! I'm sure you could go back through my very own blog and find a post where I am heaping scorn upon someone for liking something that makes me hurl. (Actually, I just looked and didn't find anything exactly like this. Whoosh! Narrowly escaped that little bit of hypocrisy!)

What I find irritating is that many (not all) of these posters seem to feel that everything they read is sensical, upright, empowering, deadly serious, and Good, while the Twilight books are brain-sapping, oppressive, and Bad. It's a freaking YA vampire romance novel! And if you think that much of the adult novels in the same genre are feminist tracts firmly grounded in reality and excellent writing, I have a bridge to sell you.

Yep, I've read a lot of those, too. And most of them suck. I've read at least 7 books by Sherrilyn Kenyon, almost every one of them exactly the same woman-hating, ridiculously bad, he-man saves the day after a sensitive woman heals his black soul bullcrap. It's a formula that I go to for comfort and brain-off entertainment. I am a seminary student with papers to write, deep stuff that hurts my brain to read, oft-conflicting beliefs to examine and juggle, and people's eternal souls to ponder and worry over, not least of all my own and my husband's.

I cannot frikking get my head into most "grown-up" contemporary fiction. It's boring! It's hard to slog through the thousands of new releases to figure out what I'll actually like and find something that itsn't about depressed middle class marriages where at least one person wants to kill themselves and they all hate each other. On the other hand, I can be reasonably sure that any urban fantasy or paranormal romance book I pick up is going to be a) kind of predictable, b) poorly written and edited, and c) at least 85% entertaining.

I first read Twilight in '06, because I love YA fantasy books, and it has vampires. End reasons. I remember thinking that it was only okay, and that while I didn't feel the need to go on to the next books, I probably would eventually if I was casting about for something to read. Two years later, enter 'Nette. 'Nette is in love with the books, and absolutely wanted to see the movie. I had half an interest in the movie, mostly due to the pulsing excitment of my h.s. girls and their enthusiasm for Team Cullen. So I semi-reluctantly went to see the movie on New Years Day. (really. Just last week. This thing is only 9 days old.) Though I didn't realize it right away, it was starting to crumble (my dignity, my sanity) right there.

I thought the movie was pretty good, with only a couple eye-rolling "OMG! We're so in love! OMG OMG OMG!!!!!1" moments. And, I'm sorry, but Robert Pattinson is seriously a beautiful boy. Seriously. So, I borrowed the 2nd book from 'NettaBobetta and read it that night. Then it was seriously all over. I had to know!!! I bought Eclipse (hardcover. ack!) and read it at the airports and on the planes. (I saw at least 5 other people in the airports w/Twilight books. All adults.) I went to church on Sunday (movie + 68 hours) and immediately went up to the first group of h.s. girls I saw, like a junkie needing her fix. "Do any of you have Breaking Dawn??!!" I thought I may have to go to someone's house to grab it, but one of those wonderful, obsessive girls had it in her car at church, so I was able to get it right away. Joy!

And you know what? I loved it. The teenage wedding, freaky rough sex (off-page, of course), creepy vampire baby, imprinting, non-fight- all of it.

Did I absolutely love every part of the books and think they're gems of literature and girls should be Just Like Bella? No! They're FANTASY. Escapism. Fairy Tales. Bella drove me mad most of the time, with her moping and defining herself solely based on the boys in her life and incessant lack of self-confidence. But find me more than a handful of teenage girls who aren't like that! Is that ideal? Of course not. Do you really think that traditional fairy tales build them up into strong, independent women? They're all about girls waiting for princes or the brave girls who will go ahead and die for the good of the weak men or their village. It's not pretty. But I can also guarantee you that my students at church also got a little sick of Bella's whining and they picture themselves as much more independent than she is. I think they also notice the love she has for her dad, but the crappy way she treats him, and they'll think about that. Yes, I worry a little bit about what example Bella & Edward set for them, but that's exactly why I'm going to talk to them about it. I'm going to ask them about Jacob's assault and Edward's controlling ways.

And I do appreciate the message of abstinence. I don't like that so much out there now tells teens that sex is no big deal, when it is. And you can live without it, even when you really really want it. You will live. You can talk. Even though it's not highlighted as much as it is with Jacob, Edward and Bella's relationship is barely physical, and they talk and spend time together and are deep friends. This is a good thing! It's actually pretty healthy to show a realistic view of sex instead of hiding it away and pretending that boys want it, girls don't, and it's not all that great, just keep it in your pants until marriage. Yes, I know that they *did* wait until marriage, at Edward's request, but believe me, I grew up in a semi-fundie school and you just weren't supposed to talk about or want it or acknowledge its existence. Only bad kids had sex. We weren't given any practical expectations, models, or advice other than "Don't!"

Why would I, a happily married, mostly completely satisfied with my life, almost mid-30s woman like it so much? As I mentioned before, escapism. Brain-off entertainment. Romance. Fun. I adore my husband and want to climb him like a tree most days, but that doesn't mean that I have zero bagage about my desirability. That doesn't mean that guys liked me when I was younger. It doesn't mean that I don't like reading about sweeping love and sex and immortality and strength after doing dishes and prying socks out of my dog's mouth. No, it doesn't make me wish I was Bella, or seriously pine over teenage boys (ick!). It makes me want my husband even more. It just stirs up romance in general, at least for me. That's it.

Does Robert Pattinson need to worry about me? Nah. I'd blush like an idiot if I met him, just like I did when I nearly met Alan Rickman, who is way too old for me. Pretty boys are nice, no matter their age. I'm human. And I love vampires. So nyah.

Happy to Be Alive Day!

As I posted my Twilight blurb, I saw today's date and remembered that it is a holiday for me.
Sixteen years ago, I tried to kill myself. A stupid boy was the proverbial straw, but I had been depressed for a while and remained so for some time. Thankfully, I didn't want to die that bad, because I went to work and told my boss about the pills I'd taken. And I had my wonderful family and loving friends to pick me back up, dust me off (sometimes a little too roughly, sheesh! aggressive much?) and kick my butt back into the world.
I can't say I've never looked back, but I am very happy and know how to wrestle my depression to the ground when I need to do so.

So, be happy to be alive! I am!

Also, happy birthday to Greg Smith, wherever he is.

Twihard (I guess. I don't know.)

I'm working on a semi-coherent, thoughtful entry on Twilight: the books, the movie, the phenomenon. Stay tuned.

For now, be content with RPattz.

Tourette's Tics Me Off

Last week, Seth and I watched a TV movie called Front of the Class, about a man with a pretty harsh case of Tourette's who became an elementary school teacher after much heartache.
The movie was only okay- it was a Hallmark Hall of Fame. It was inspiring. You know. But I cried a LOT because it was so hard to watch the progression of this guy with some really bad tics all the way from elementary school through finally getting a teaching job. People were mean to him, he was told he was doing it on purpose, he embarrassed his dad, annoyed people. It was awful.

My husband's case of Tourette's is nowhere near the level of this guy's, but I still am embarrassed by him sometimes. If he's making noise in church, I want him to stop because I don't want him to bother the people around him. I also don't want people to think poorly of him; that he's just a loud guy being weird or inappropriate. I do act sometimes like he can control it. He can, to a certain extent, but it's hard, it stresses him out, and it just makes it worse after a while.

I hated seeing that poor little boy get yelled at or shunned by his own dad because of his tics. I hate the thought that I make my husband feel crummy with a look or gesture when I wish he wasn't ticking. I don't want to be that person. I've tried for a while to cultivate in myself the quality of not caring what people think. To abandon obsession with appearance, making sure everyone likes me and my husband, always appearing smart and put-together. He doesn't care what people think, and he knows that the people that matter know what's going on. Some people never even notice until they're told. Usually at my prompting, because I think that he's being conspicuous and I don't want people to judge him (by which, of course, I mean me).

I guess this is a confession. I don't want to be like this. I know that I don't have to be. Only the Holy Spirit can remind me and nudge me and make the change in my heart.

My Big Dog is Funny

I'm not entirely used to him yet regarding his letting me know he has to go outside. He just comes near and stares at you. Often with his usual full-body tail wag. But he'll stare quite persistently, which isn't completely out of the ordinary, because he's quite a needy and forceful guy. Thankfully, he won't just go on the floor, at least night right away.

What is funny about us as dog owners is that even though he always looks the same, I'm sure, we are quite certain that he makes faces and has "looks". We think this about the little dog, too, but Underwood uses his eyebrows to much greater effect.

Part of the problem

Part of the problem with my sleep troubles is that due to allergies & a deviated septum, I am a mouth breather. Mouth breathing leads to thirst, which leads to lots of drinks at night, which leads to more peeing. So, I try to go to bed, but then I have to pee. I'm thirsty, too, so I drink water while peeing. Then I toddle back to bed. Wait an hour or so (or less!) and repeat. Do it again later.

Spinning along

"Rock Lobster" is a really great song for the stationary bike. Probably good for real biking, too. Keep with the beat, go crazy at the crazy parts, slow down when it does. A most excellent 7 minutes.

Hot, tranny mess

Maybe this should go under the posting of "things I learned," but it doesn't quite fit. I mean, I know that there is a difference between transgendered and drag. Perhaps since I have never had to make that distinction on the ground, it didn't click in my head. A few weeks ago I ate at this restuarant, where I was told there would be drag queens. I was pretty excited to go, I tell you. I was going with the Kiwis and Paula (woman originally from Dearborn, now living in SF!), none of whom had ever been there. I even went to the website to check out prices before I went, and it still didn't click that these weren't going to be drag queens.
They were trannies. Bad lip-synchers. Many seemed depressed. Dressed like Mariah Carey on her most hoochie-mama, too-much lipstick kinda day. I'm sure it's insensitive of me, and maybe it's just because they're new to me, but many struck me as sad, confused boys. And they made me confused and sad.
I guess I've never been fully able to wrap my head around people who want to be the opposite gender; to deny who they are. I know that lots will say that to live any other way would be to deny who they are, but I cannot believe that that phenomenon-truly feeling trapped in the wrong body- is as common as it would seem looking around.
I must admit that I have half a mind to take this post down. Like I shouldn't offer my thoughts on the matter and be labeled a self-righteous hater or something. But a) it's my blog. b) I don't expect everyone to agree with me or understand all that I do, so others shouldn't expect the same from me.

What I've Learned Lately

1) I'm happier being outside than being inside. I was going to say, "I like being outside better," but that's not completely true. The lazy flesh wants to stay inside, vegetate, be fat and unhappy. Without fail, though, as soon as I step outside, I'm happier and feel better. I've known for a while that I need the sun, but I'm pleased to see that it's just the outdoors in general.
It hit me more clearly a couple weeks ago when I got up, was exhausted and foggy, and I needed a Coke, but there was none in the house. I got in the car to drive to Jack in the Box for a Coke, but I really didn't need it by the time I got there. Once I left my house, I was feeling more awake and chipper.
I've always wanted to be Outdoor Girl, and I believe that I finally am her!

2) Perception is NOT reality. I've said the opposite in the past, and I think that the opposite is true as far as our actions and psychology go, but we really need to get back to focusing on the actual reality of the situations. Where did I have this revelation? At the Exploratorium.
We were going through all the visual experiments, and I learned about the nerves on the backs of our eyes. They are ALWAYS in our field of vision, but our brains block them out. Now, I've heard things like this before, and I know that our brains fill in our blind spots with what they're pretty sure is there. I also know concretely from Carson and other places that we have messed up perceptions of our bodies. It's just that it finally hit me in a real way as a scientific fact, not just psychological mumbo jumbo. The way I think of and see my body isn't necessarily real. It's not what's actually there.
That can go either way in my case, because I often think I'm totally adorable, and then I see a picture and change my mind. So which is real? The cute or the hateful captured in the picture? And other days I feel super ugly in person, or I can get a picture that I love.
But I had to sit there and gather myself and try to not cry in the children's museum because it finally hit me that our eyes and minds lie to us. I kind of think it's great.

Lactic Acid!

We went to Yosemite with a group from church last Thursday-Sunday. Camping, frolicking in rivers, etc, etc. It was good. One of the most beautiful places on the planet, I'm sure.
So...
Saturday morning, we got up (I won't say "woke" because I didn't sleep) at 4:30 so we could potty, grab our lunches and breakfasts we made the night before, try not to wake up the non-Half Domers, and get out of there. The point in starting so FREAKING early was to be out as little as possible in the 100 degree weather. Believe me, I was out there anyway.

Anyway. Nervous, wishing that more bathroom-ing had been done, I hit the trail with my group around 6:30am. We were the slowest of our 3 groups heading up, but we were really the average speed. Nevertheless, we had to put up with radio shenanigans and trash-talking from the fastest (read: psychotic) group at various points throughout the day.

Even within the first mile or so, it was the hardest thing I'd done. Here's the trail: I can tell you that it sucked.
After this steepness, there are stone stairs of various heights going up to the first waterfall. ..That sucked, too. Do you sense a theme? In case you don't, I'll spell it out: The Theme Is- Suck, Pain, Fear, Beauty, and Triumph. (I jumped a head a little bit.)

Anywhoodle, two waterfalls, lots of stairs/rocks/rubble. Fear of neck-breakage. About 6200' up, there is Little Yosemite Valley, which was great. It doesn't appear that anyone took any pictures, probably because when you get to it, you're so thrilled to have flat ground, that your head is filled with delusions of speed and making good time.

After a while of traipsing across flat (yeah!) stretches of sandy (yuck!) trail, it starts heading up again through the trees. It's all very lovely- the trees looked like cartoons, they were so bright copper on their bark. Big trees, rocks, sloping hills. It's quite lovely. We knew we were stopping to rest at a spring so that we could get some more water, and we were expecting a lovely, burbling pond, something we could maybe put our feet in. Nope. It was a puddle. Barely noticeable. But a spring it was, and we were able to pump out some cold water to refill our bags and bottles. Most of us had already drank about 2.5 liters.

Around mile 5.5 or 6, you can see the dome and the cables that you have to use to go up them. This? is not heartening. It feels so far away, and also reminds you of the insane task you are undertaking.
At the bottome of the dome part, there are the stairs called Quarter Dome. Here's a picture I swiped from May's facebook: . The picture makes it look a bit tamer than it was. You may be able to tell that it is a series of switchbacks made of stone, often on the edge and making me feel like I'm going to fall to my death!

I went up these stairs mostly on my hands and knees. I'm not sure how much of that was necessity versus fear. Again, they were all different sizes, some with gravel on them, some slippery, all steep and scary. The altitude mixed with fear also made my breathing pretty wonky. After a while I had to sit down every 10 feet or so, even though I tried to just power through and get the dang thing over with. When resting at one point, I just started crying. I was so scared, and I didn't want to keep going. I didn't want to go down, either, though, and that was a problem. The marvelous Sylvia encouraged me, though, and assured me that I could do it and I was just tired. I also knew that no helicopter was going to rescue me from my perch, so I forged on.

In my mind, I was waiting to see the cables up-close, look at the angle, and then I would decide if I was going to make it to the top. This is what I saw:

And I decided not to do it. There is a wider part before the cables that you can't see here, and I sat on a rock near some friends who had already made it up and down again, and I was content to wait there for my group. When Korie came to ask me why I wasn't going, I just started crying again. I was more scared than I think I've ever been. I just couldn't do it. But the marvelous Thomas (you've heard of Thomas & Sylvia in my tales of Mexico) came up and asked me if I wanted to just try it. He said that he'd go with me, and I could just get out on the rock and go as far as I wanted, then turn around. I agreed that I wanted to try, and we set out. Thomas got all Zen Master on me and told me that I was not to look to the right or to the left, but only at my feet, the rock, and the next board. I would only hear his voice, and he would clip & unclip me from the line.

There are 2 cables coming 400' from the top of the rock down to the base, and you're mostly using your arms to pull yourself up. Every 8' or so, there are two poles with a wooden plank between them- these are where you can rest. Sort of mini-goals that seem to be 10 miles when you're out there. The incline is probably about a 45-degree angle at first, and then it gets steeper. Most people go between these two cables and slowly pull themselves up, but Thomas told us all that he would rather we only held one cable because it's not as slippery on the outside, and it's more stable just holding on to one. I think that all us fearful folk ignored him at first and started between the cables. I thought it would be better to be behind people, then I could just concentrate on the back in front of me, and not look up. The problem with that was that there was a bit of a traffic jam. I was going to wig out if we didn't move, so I went on the outside of the cables with Thomas. Then I was a woman on a mission. I was passing people like crazy, because I just wanted the thing to be over!! I would hurriedly pull myself to the next pole and hold on to it for dear life while Thomas calmly told me to take a drink of water and get my breathing under control. Like on the stairs before, I was almost hyperventilating. One of the poles was loose in its hole, and I almost had a heart attack, I tell you.

Like in races, everyone on the whole mountain is like one, big team. Everyone encourages one another, so I had plenty of people, including my friends on the way down, telling me how great I was doing, how close I was, etc. I finally had to tell one stranger who said, "You're almost there!" (without looking at him, of course. The pattern of that granite is etched on my brain.) that people kept telling me that I was almost there, yet I was most assuredly still on that rock. Finally, 7 hours after leaving the trailhead, I was on top of Half Dome.

It really is quite beautiful up there, and I have a huge sense of accomplishment, but I don't think I'm saying, "Oh, it was totally worth it!" It sucked. And the suckage wasn't even over yet.

After about 15 minutes up top, it was thundering, and we had to head back down. I was not thrilled with this, either. Thomas did his Zen mojo on the way down, and I slid/hopped down backwards, with only 1 or 2 near-death moments. My foot slid and kind of flew out at one point, some of those boards felt MUCH farther away than the others, oy. It was rough. Then we had the stairs again. The beautiful thing, though, is that pretty much nothing is scary after that. Hard and painful? Sure. But not as scary as on the way up. It's just that going down irregular, slippery steps is much harder, at least for the short girl with bad knees, than going up. Basically, Thomas walked in front of me, I had my hands on his backpack, and I baby-stepped each one. On the regular trails, I was great. I jogged, I was ahead of people, but those stairs kicked my butt. I would say that they added at least 45 minutes to my time. Knees on fire, being force-fed shot blocks every once in a while, I made it. About 4.5 hours to get down.

After the last of the stairs, I got to that steep, paved trail I pictured up above. Everything in me wanted to just run all the way to the bottom- I was FREE of those evil stairs! I wanted to get to dinner! I wanted to see my husband! Jogging downhill is so much easier on my knees than walking! But I felt like an ingrate running off and leaving Thomas & Sylvia, who had helped me so much. So I ran a bit, then I sat and waited for them.

We had been under the impression that the other groups had already moved on to the pizza place for dinner because they had led us to believe so via radio. The Irreverend Mark even thought he was a funny guy and radioed to say that Seth had broken his other ankle. Plus, you burn an ENORMOUS amount of fuel doing this. We were eating almost non-stop, and my stomach still growled on the way up and the way down. We figured that everyone else would be racing to dinner. But as I neared the bottom, I almost cried when I saw almost everyone at the end of the trail, jumping and yelling and holding a toilet paper finish line. I thought, "I have good friends!" and started running for them
It was all high-fives, pictures, cheers, and hugs.
Everyone was quite impressed that Seth had been sitting in his chair at the trailhead, waiting for me for about 5 hours. He got to be everyone's welcome team, and they started the finish line about halfway through.

We stuck our feet in the painfully cold river, which was good and bad, and then walked the mile or so over to dinner. (It never ends!)

My feet hurt so bad that I couldn't fall asleep until Benadryl knocked me out, I now have a stress fracture, and every muscle in my body hurt for about 5 days, but I did it!

My official "I made it to the top!" t-shirt tells me the stats: 17 miles (gps says 20, though), 4800' elevation gain, 8842' above sea level. In 12 hours, which I'm told is a "nice" pace. Argh. I'm sure that many of you are braver, stronger, taller, in better shape, smarter, saner than I, but I will tell you that climbing this mountain was the hardest thing I've ever done- mentally or physically.
When buying my t-shirt the next day, the girl in the store looked at us, asked if we had done Half Dome the previous day, and then said with a strange look on her face, "You're doing alarmingly well." Rock!

Will I ever do it again? Doubtful. I sort of want to, but those stairs are the worst. There is a trail that may skip most of them. If that's true, I'll probably do it again. It definitely would have to be a group effort, though. Most of us would have turned back without a second thought if it hadn't been for our friends.
(Read Marks' blog for some deep thoughts on this.)

So many things to talk about!

I've been a slacker here, and I'm sorry for that. Too much going on; too brain dead at the end of most days to write here. I'm not going to write a lot now, even, but I wanted to post my intentions.

1) I will finish the tale of boot camp with the dog, and I hope to get up some pictures.
2) I will talk briefly about our vacation to Nevada & the family. Definitely pictures.
3) I will write a long, overly-descriptive entry on our trip to Yosemite and the fact that I summited Half Dome against strong odds. Pictures.

Woohoo!

Oh, this dog is good.
Today we went to the mall, and it appears that one of the magic ingredients in getting Underwood to listen is being in the real world! He does not care for our repetition at school where he knows darn well that he can do it and doesn't need to prove it to us, thank you very much.
I felt like it was a special place where anything could happen. He did things without me having to act insane, he did things that he had never done before- it was awesome. He is going to be an amazing service dog.
I also know that he's doing better because our bond is a little tighter. He has started wagging his tail a bit more around me, and he's making more eye contact as opposed to rolling his eyes.
I'm also learning patience and not to micro-manage. Being that we're never supposed to let them get away with not listening, I have to choose whether or not I really need to tell him to do something right now. If we're just standing there and he's fine, I don't need to have him sit. I think that this is something that will spread to my whole life, too. I want to fine-tune and control everything, which is one of the reasons I don't like being around kids.
I'm also happy because I wasn't forced to give back his service dog cape, so we can go out and I can take him to church tomorrow. They just really don't want the actual clients do go out yet, since they can't control their dogs if anything were to happen. I could run after him or tackle him if I needed to, but someone in a wheelchair who doesn't have much experience with their dog couldn't take care of as much yet.
Now, we're off the the park for a walk/run. It will be interesting to be out with a big dog!

Underwood

Today was day 5 of my mock-client training with a service dog. I. am. exhausted.
Lemme see if I can formulate coherent thoughts as to why this is so:
Every day, all day, I'm thinking, I'm being watched, I'm having mostly failures with some successes thrown in, I'm being encouraged or critiqued, and I'm having to lead.
I've been paired with a one year-old yellow lab named Underwood, and he is a VERY good boy- very sweet, well-mannered, and low-key. Part of the problem is his extreme low-key-ness mixed with the fact that he's young and has never had to work this much before. He's not one of those happy, waggy dogs who want to please you and await your every command. I have to fight to get his attention, repeat the commands a few times, and usually get extremely hyper and act insane in order to get him to really pay attention and do it. Or I need to offer him treats, which isn't all that great. Did I mention that I'm doing this in a wheelchair? I thought I did.
I know that there are worse problems to have-- he could be really hyper and hard to have around, but he is the complete opposite. I brought him home for the first time last night, and there was not one lick of misbehavior. He did wake me up for breakfast at 6am, but it was by very politely putting his chin on my leg, and we were able to go back to bed after.
We're attached to one another for the next week or so, and our bond should be forming very soon. I know that once he feels more connected to me, he'll be much more willing to pay attention to me and do what I say. It just makes for frustrating, tiring days right now.
He is a sweetie, though. We curled up on the couch last night for a while, he twice tried to jump up on the bed with me, he lives to "shake", and he is crashed out on the floor next to me as I type.
Tomorrow we have our first field trip--we're going to the mall for coffee, walking around in a civilized manner, and lunch in a restaurant. If we were a real service team, I wouldn't be allowed to leave the house other than that for the weekend. We're supposed to be bonding. Have I been told that I need to do that? Yes. Am I working on getting out of that? Yes. I want to take this boy to church! I'll let you know how the next week goes.

Trepidation

I'm starting something a smidge intimidating tomorrow. I'm going to be in a wheelchair for most of two weeks, bonding and training with a service dog. There will also be some real clients there getting training with their new dogs, so that won't be awkward at all. "Hey this pretending to be handicapped during the day, except for when I have to go to the bathroom, this is hard!"
I'm looking forward to it, though. It's supposed to be very eye-opening, and I'm glad to finally get some training with the dogs, after 2.5 years of hanging around the joint! So, during the days this week, we'll have classwork- some lectures, lots of practice. Then, starting Saturday, the dreaded field trips. Going on a bus, to the movies, out to eat, to the mall, etc. There is a final exam in the mall, which I've been a spy/judge for before. No pressure.
Starting Wednesday, I'll be bringing a dog home with me, and I'm supposed to be the only one to feed, look at, touch the dog, etc. That's for creating that intense bond and starting life as a team. I'm not sure how much I'll be expected to do that. I'm supposed to be tied to the dog 24/7, minus showers. We'll see.
We'll see how Tootsie reacts to a big dog in her house, and how hard it will be for me to bond with a dog and then let it not actually be mine. But I can always see him/her at work. If I get paired with my favorite dog, though, there's going to be a showdown about giving her back, I tell you.
Why are non-handicapped people paired with dogs and going through this training? It's so that both our students and the dogs can get as much practice with this as possible. I'm probably going to have 2 of the seminar students (they're learning how to train the service dogs and start their own organization) as my teaching team during the two weeks. And it's a learning experience- to get a tiny taste of what life in a chair is like, how people see you. Joy(?).
Hopefully, I'll get some pictures to put up. I'll let you know how it goes.

Middle Class Dream

I went into Costco on Tuesday and there was some sort of tasting jamboree going on. Two rows, back to back, of juices, meats, nachos, etc. I thought about resisting, but that didn't make any sense. So, I ate dinner for free, entertained the idea of buying a #10 can of nacho cheese, and got the lettuce I had gone in for.

Sleepy Bible Verses

It seems that a number of people happen upon my blog when looking for a godly response to insomnia. These are verses that I found years ago, when I was barely sleeping. It was actually when I started this blog, and I'm surprised that I didn't post these back then.

Psalm 3:5 I lie down and sleep; I wake again, because the Lord sustains me.

Psalms 4:8 I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety.

Psalms 127:2 In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat, for he grants sleep to those he loves.

Proverbs 3:23 [If you preserve sound judgment & discernment] ...when you lie down, you will not be afraid; when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet.

Matthew 11:28 Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

Isaiah 26:3 You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trust in you.

2 Corinthians 6:4-6 Rather, as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: in great endurance; in troubles, hardships and distresses; in beatings, imprisonments and riots; in hard work, sleepless nights and hunger; in purity, understanding, patience and kindness; in the Holy Spirit and in sincere love;

Romans 8:6 The mind controlled by the sinful nature is death, but the mind controlled by the Spirit is life and peace.

I'm currently in a period of messed-up sleep, but I know that it's not the end of the world. Of course, I don't have kids or work to worry about. But pray these verses, and look up other ones about resting in God. It's going to be okay. Maybe some of the things we think are urgent and important aren't that high on God's priority list for us.

Let a person make a friggin' mistake already!

Good golly, I'm tired of the media. The endless coverage and scrutiny of every, single thing that barely matters has gotten completely stupid. What I'm specifically tired of is everyone having to apologize for every mistake they make, every time they put their foot in their mouth, every time they fart in their kitchen.

What kind of people are David Hasselhoff's daughters that they would put a video of their dad stumbling around drunk on the internet? Why are Hulk Hogan's private conversations with his incarcerated son being taped and leaked? Why do all the candidates have to apologize for having any opinions that some might disagree with? (I'm even defending Hillary here.) Why is firing a staffer the only way to make up for a dumb comment?

I feel like my eyes are going to roll all the way back into my head and I won't be able to dislodge them. I'm especially susceptible because I'm actually into the campaigns...why do I lie? I'm into Obama's campaign. But I'm checking the news more often, reading stories about the election, and checking out headlines in general. Therefore, I'm seeing more of the silliness.

Can all journalists and politicians PLEASE just get their panties out of a knot and let people be themselves? I know, it's not going to happen. Not with multiple round-the-clock news stations and Nancy Pelosi on the case.

Here! Have a cryptic post.

I'm being a little bit obsessive and insane, and I'd love for it to stop.

Kai Ryssdal sounds hot

So, I realized the other day that I've thought this for a while. Have you listened to Marketplace on NPR? Try it. Anyway, I'm posting this after figuring out how the heck to spell his name, but before looking for a picture.

I'm going to look for a picture now to confirm or refute my thoughts on his hotness. Here goes:

He's alright. Probably cuter in person than in the slanty photos favored on the website. Fairly handsome man. (Bah. Look for yourself, I don't want to search again for the link.)

Go, Obama, go!

That's all I have for now on that topic.

Our BFF, China

I know I'm a little behind on this post, but I couldn't wrangle up the energy to do it last week.
My question is this: Why is anyone surprised that things aren't going smoothly for the Olympics in China?
They're still communists; they still aren't free; they still have horrible human rights abuses; they still kill their daughters; etc, etc. It's just that our über-capitalist governments here in the West have decided that since they now have money to spend, the kids must be alright. "Oh, you want our imports now? Sure thing, friend!"
Do I think that boycotting the Olympics would accomplish anything? Actually, I do. If it was backed up by our government asking China some hard questions and expecting some action. Is this going to happen? Nah. So my love for the Olympics overrides this and figures that the athletes who have worked so hard for this should be able to go ahead and accomplish their dreams. Maybe the media will actually draw attention to the crap going on there.

A Consistent Ethic of Life

One of the things that I learned a bit more about this past quarter was having a "consistent ethic of life". This is something that the Catholic church is good at adhering to- caring about people from womb to grave and all the points in between. So this would pan out as being against abortion, euthanasia, war, and capital punishment. It would also be reflected in supporting people at all stages of life, helping deliver from oppression and poverty, and generally valuing the soul of every, single person as a reflection of God's image, no matter how distorted it may be.

On the surface, I can whole-heartedly say, "Yes! Count me in! This describes me!" But every once in a while something comes up where I can tell that it isn't all the way in me. Today I read a news story about a man who put his baby girl in the microwave. THE MICROWAVE. And this is after punching her and putting her in the hotel safe and fridge. My gut reaction is wanting this man to be dispatched to his eternal reward immediately. But is that right? God wants this sicko's soul just as much as he wants and cherishes mine. At the same time, God has historically known and acted when someone is a lost cause. I've been against the death penalty since I first investigated it in high school, but these thoughts I have make me question my loyalty to that. Gimme a break, I was even sad when Sadaam Hussein was executed because that was a human being created in God's image who was killed. I have no idea why I had more sympathy for him than this guy in Texas.

In any discussion of pacifism, there is always the elephant in the room: Hitler. If I believe that war is always wrong, then do I think that we should have just let Hitler go on his merry way, praying that the Christians in Europe would get their heads out of their asses and rise up? (Non-violently, of course). No. I think.

This is where labels fall apart and we realize that as much as we would like to be consistent and never veer towards hypocrisy, we're humans who live in a screwed-up and complicated world. I could just make life easier and say that I'm in the Just-Peacemaking camp (see Kingdom Ethics), which I mostly think is an awesome philosophy. It just seems that the Bible is pretty clear about the whole peace thing and that all of our efforts are to justify our human tendencies towards war and violence. Then again, we are humans, and we cannot possibly live up to all that God wants of us.

Does that mean we give up? Not at all. I will try as much as I can to have a consistent ethic of life and honor the God of Justice and Mercy. Being that I am not personally responsible for executing anyone, I'll stick to what is in my sphere of influence: trying to alleviate suffering, praying, and voting in ways that will decrease poverty and oppression. It's truly is the Best thing I can do.

I have returned.

Oh, the exciting posts I have in mind!!!
It's really too bad that's not true. I recall having a few deep thoughts over Lent, and I even thought about sending in some posts via e-mail, but those thoughts have fled.

What did I do with my fast? I didn't really clean any more or do all the wonderful things I thought about doing, but I think that I felt more rested. I didn't feel like even my free time was rushed. I noticed it especially when I started researching for my paper, which was a full-time job. I spent so much stinkin' time looking at denominational websites, reading position papers, resolutions, family experiences, scriptural analysis, and insane rants. I read and read and read, finally writing a 23-page paper. That was finished about 12 hours before I left for Mexico, after an all-nighter, followed by the drive to Mexico, building a house, thinking all week and feeling half-stupid/half-smart, driving back, cleaning stuff the next day, Easter the day after that, now day 2 of work post-vacation.

This year's Mexico trip was fan-frikkin-tastic, after a rocky start, that is. Rocky due to near-freezing temperatures the first night in camp, which none of us were prepared for. Knees throbbing and shivering all night, I seriously wanted to be home and never return. Thankfully, the awesome Howie provided an extra sleeping bag to me and two others, and we did not, in fact, freeze to death.

The family we worked with was wonderful, and we will definitely see them again. They were fun to be with and worked their tails off all week. I nicknamed the dad, "Enrique, the Construction Machine". I had a mostly great time with my Spanish, and was particularly pleased that many on our team spoke some Spanish and were able to interact with the family. I'll post some pictures later this week.

I also had a great time getting to know people from church, which I expected. I really like having time out of our normal context to chat with people and talk about things that would never come up at lunch after church or even in a movie evening at a friend's house. (Lots of bodily functions discussed, but that's not all that I mean.) When you're in this type of situation where you get to hang out with people 24 hours per day, sweating and working and cooking together, it almost skips a few steps in the normal friendship ladder so that you're more like family then you were before. I love it. I hope that I was fun to be with and someone people want to be close to.

That paper I wrote for class: it was on gay marriage, and it was very difficult. Reading all the different things that people post on the topic can be emotionally exhausting. In the end, I've decided that I am in favor of equal marriage for gay and straight couples. You can call it marriage, you can call it civil unions, as long as it's equal. Let the government give everyone the same rights, and churches can marry whom they want and refuse whom they want. All fair, nothing forced. Perhaps I'll try to boil my paper down to a blog-appropriate length so you can understand my reasoning. These two spots give you a good idea, though. I don't completely agree with everything said on both, but they really impacted me and made me weep:
Musings On and Justin from GayChristian.net.

After 2.5 days of being back on the internet, I'm not really sure how I feel. I kind of don't like it, so I may try to set some more restrictions on myself. I've tried before, but it may actually work this time, because I've seen the stark difference between my days with and without hours online.

I do hope to write more, though. It's good for me, and keeps the Slacker's Prince up on my mind's wanderings.

Hasta la pascua

I'm giving up the internet for Lent.  I've tried variations on this in the past, and I've tried to limit my online time, but this time I'm really doing it.  I am going to check my e-mail once per day, and I will do my online Bible study every day, but that's it.  Unless something is necessary, there will be no blogging, no posting on chat pages, no checking the weather, myspace, reader, etc etc. 

Oh! And now that I thought of it, no logging into the bank account every day.  That will be good for us.  Let him do it. Let me chill out.

I believe this will be good for me.  I've felt like I've been drowning the past four months; like my life is falling apart around me.  In the face of this, I've been avoiding as many commitments as I can, I've not been taking care of my house, and I've been vegging a lot.  I would like to take more time to interact with my husband instead of us both doing separate things.  I would like to read more, do more dishes, go to a friend's house more often.  I just need to restructure my free time a little bit to still be free, but not so across-the-board useless.  I often go online first thing in the morning and, before I know it, it's time to leave the house and I haven't eaten, read my Bible, or really done anything.  No more!!  

My prayer is that God will show me what can and should be pruned.  That I'll get a clearer focus on what is important and when, after Easter, I let myself back on the webs, it will be in moderation and with a purpose being wasting time.

thirtysomething

I've been thinking about throwing thirtysomething on my  queue, but I'm sort of afraid.  

"Afraid?" you ask.  "Why would you be afraid?"

Well, when the show was on, I thought that the people on it looked terribly old and I couldn't really believe that they were only in their thirties.  And I still think of those actors as quite old.  The issue is this: I'm in my thirties.  What if, when I watch it, they don't still look old to me, but they look like babies or something?  Or what if I totally recognize myself in these people I thought were old?  

Every once in a while, someone thinks that I'm in my twenties.  I just want to freeze those moments and carry them around with me.  

Discipline

I'm too tired to get deep right now, but I'm learning a lot and changing as a result of being an athlete. It started almost 2 years ago, when I started training for my 1/2 marathon, and it's only gotten stronger. More accurately, it has been jump-started by my training for a triathlon, which I'll be doing in May. Since I have specific goals which are fairly lofty goals, at least for me, I have to be disciplined with my time and training. I can't blow off going to the gym or to the park, because I have a goal in sight. It also helps that you sink a fair amount of money in registering for these races, because that keeps you going, too.
I just need to translate this sense of discipline into all the areas of my life. I need to voice or write down more clearly my educational, spiritual, household, and friendship goals. Not that all of those areas will have tangible endpoints- I'll get X amount more holy and make 3 more good friends and then I'm done!- but if I know what I want out of my life more than making it from day to day, I can maybe better correct my lazy tendencies or prune things that are getting in the way of those goals. If I clarify that I want to pay more attention to these 2 friends for a while or clean my kitchen every week (gotta start somewhere ;) ), I can make better choices that move toward those ends.

Check out my training blog if you haven't yet. There's a link over there--->
You'll hear about my second 1/2 marathon which is in 10 days, and also my successes on the way to my first triathlon!

TV and Movies and Heath Ledger- a disjointed post

Happiness: Saw Juno and loved loved loved it. Not as cutesy as I thought it would be, very well-acted and written, touching, funny, just great.
We watched the one and only season of Wonderfalls, and it was also great. Makes me mad at stupid Fox for never supporting their good shows, and for not making it clear at the time that it was totally different than Joan of Arcadia, to which this show is far superior (even though I did occasionally enjoy JoA.) Rent it, you'll like it. They did a pretty decent job of providing closure, so that I can enjoy the one season without feeling completely ripped off.

Ugh. Heath Ledger. It's just sad, and I've already talked about how messed up Hollywood is and that these are real people who are really broken. Pray for them, when you think of it. Pray for Britney and her children. I'm serious.

The weirdest spot in the gym

It's the hot tub. Of course, I haven't been in the steam room, and that may be stranger, but the hot tub is pretty weird. It's a spot where you should be totally relaxed and pleased, but it's really just a frothy pot full of strangers trying not to look at each other or their collected dirt floating on the foam. I don't think I'll go back.

Yay for crippled dogs!

I was overjoyed to see a woman running along the marina in SF with both a 3-legged dog and a dachshund on wheels. So cute!

No, thank you?

On a whim today, I got my eyebrows waxed. It's been quite a while, so I felt fine with a mini-splurge, and was thrilled to finally get it done. As the girl was finishing up, she asked if I wanted a lip wax. WHA???!!!
Like most women, I'm fairly self-critical and invent flaws where there are none, but I've NEVER entertained the notion that I've had hair on my lip, at least not enough that it would merit removing.
Should I have offered her some makeup remover, perhaps? Yes, that's all I got. The only rip I could offer. She was wearing a fair amount of makeup. While I was walking in the rain to the library looking like a slob in very little makeup. Perhaps the frizz of my hair was casting a shadow on my face.
Whatever.

I never claimed to be quick on the uptake.

I finally noticed that my car's antenna wasn't extended, so I pulled it out yesterday.
Voila! Radio stations! It's only been 11 months that I've had the car.


I will write more soon. I've had passing thoughts, but not the time nor energy to expand upon them.

A serving of seconds, and some recommendations

On Thanksgiving, I rode the motorcycle again, and it was much more successful. Cousin K and I went out for about 20 minutes, and she just led me all over- down rutted hills, over rocks and branches, up other bumpy hills. It was quite awesome. I did well with the shifting, and I was excited, but I was also ready for it to be over. It was strange how my brain was working- I think that some kids are like that with too much stimulation. "This is fun. I want to do it again soon, but let's be done now."

Most of the family went out to the desert to ride on Black Friday, and it sounds like it was a ton of fun, but I was not about to get up at the b.c.o.d. to head out there for a long day with the kids and grandpa. They went to Cabela's at 6am, then went riding. Another time. Although I was willing to embrace my tough-girl feelings and continue with a motorcycle-filled weekend, I opted for a girly-girl day of shopping, dinner, and movies with teenage cousins L & N. That was also lots of fun.

My second second is the the running! I'm a little confused- could be lack of oxygen to my brain while running (it was all diverted to the stitch in my side and my legs), but I may have run a mile tonight on the treadmill. Anyway, I ran for 10 minutes, which is a new record and longer BY FAR than I've ever run before, other than the aforementioned 9-minute, downhill mile. Now that I look at those numbers, I doubt that I ran a mile today, because my sweaty self figured out that I was running around an 11-minute mile while I was going at it. In short (too late)- I'm excited.

You must see: Enchanted
It is surprisingly good, funny, sweet, nice, catchy, etc, etc.
You must listen to: the soundtrack for Across the Universe. I realized how much I like Beatles music, especially as good covers. The lead actor, Jim Sturgess, has a lovely, clear voice extremely reminiscent of Ewan McGregor's. I love the soundtrack for itself (went straight to the store to buy it after giving it a listen online), but it also makes me want to listen to Moulin Rouge, which is my current all-time #1 favorite soundtrack(s) and maybe CD, period. Will it be moving to #2? We'll see.

In other news: both cars died this week. His is fixed, mine not yet. Got to kick-start my scooter, which also made me feel terribly tough. Looking forward to being in MI for Christmas- I think. I'll be very glad to see people and relax in my mom's house, but I don't relish the cold. Oh well.

A weekend of firsts

This past weekend we went to visit the cousins and I ended up doing a couple things I had never done: I ran a mile, and I rode a motorcycle.
Both were exciting in their own ways, but I will say that was happier about the mile. It was mostly downhill, but not entirely, and it was still quite hard. Even when I started the run, I didn't quite think that I would make it, but as I knew I was getting closer to the end, I was able to push past the wanting to puke phase. I was quite delighted, let me tell you. Plus, I did it in only 9 minutes! Someday soon, I'll be running a mile on flat terrain. Yippee!
The motorcycle was successful, in that I didn't fall, but not smooth at all. Even though I know how to drive a manual car, I was unable to really put that knowledge together with my hands and feet on the bike. I'm used to my scooter, which is an automatic and like a bicycle in that both handles are brakes, so I couldn't put it all together and get it straight that I wanted to use one foot and one hand to brake, I forgot to let off the gas when I shifted- which resulted in a cool/scary wheelie thing once, and I kept wanting the clutch to be my rear brake. Argh. I'll practice more this weekend when I go out for the giving of thanks. And I'll wear a helmet, which will make me more comfortable. Don't worry, I wasn't on a road. I was on the hill/compound of the family, on a slow-moving dirtbike.

I ended up leaving Husband-o-mine there to visit for the week while I came home to go to work and school. It's been nice to have the house to myself a little bit, but nothing has felt that different. I'm still crazy busy and, hopefully, I'll manage my time better this long weekend so that I don't just bask in the time off and then feel screwed when I go to class Monday. That's what happened last weekend.

A note to the Slacker's Prince: I'll be seeing you on Christmas, my dear!
Coming up: political thoughts which I have avoided up until now.

Beautiful Fall (more drooling thoughts on California)

It's fall in California, much like it is everywhere else in the northern hemisphere, and it is so beautiful. I love all the red and orange leaves, especially contrasted with leaves that are still green, with a few redwoods standing watch, a lone palm tree once in a while looking at the rest in confusion.

Today I was watching leaves fall from some trees, and it was both cool and sad. It's so strange to see a tree still holding most of its leaves lose so many at one time- How does that happen? How do they know? Why do some give up before others? No, I don't want or need the scientific explanation; I pretty much know it. But watching it happen sort of makes rational explanation irrelevant- there's magic and sentience in the fluttering, gold descent, not just cell disintegration and trapped glucose. I think it would be both an awesome and sad thing to sit under trees and watching while the wind blew off all their leaves in one short time period.

The vineyards in fall are so beautiful. The leaves turn the same range of colors as the trees, and you can have deep crimson, almost purple, leaves right across the street from yellow and orange ones. The hills covered in vines take on a different look and texture, as if they'd changed clothes, and it's sometimes disorienting because I feel like I'm on the wrong road or something because so many different things are standing out than when it's all green.

There was a large fox in front of a vineyard we drove by the other day. I believe it's only the 2nd fox I've ever seen not in a zoo. The first one was on the campus of UM-D, as I was coming out of the library at midnight (during finals) and there was brand-new snow everywhere. The fox ran by and I know this sounds SUPER corny, but it felt like a gift. I think that you know what I'm talking about- there's always something magical about fresh snow at night, especially if you're one of the only people around. That's not something I get to experience anymore, unless I should choose to go to snow in the winter, but the majestic hills and ocean are a fair trade.

Some thoughts I Found

I found a piece of paper in a book yesterday, and I thought it was a reaction to the book Finally Feminist by John Stackhouse, because I have that written at the top of the paper, but upon looking at the amazon page for that book, it looks like I didn't read it but I have it on my TBR list. I'm thinking then, that it is a reaction to either an article I was reading in Christianity Today or to the book A Generous Orthodoxy, which I've mentioned here before. Without editing for grammar or anything, here are my thoughts:

I am (maybe?) post-modern in that I defy category (including p.m.) & old, over-arching definitions or ways of thought, but I do not deny ultimate truth, nor am I relativistic. Sort of like anti-Big Government. I don't need your Big Church or Big Religion. No, we can't grasp Him completely, but that doesn't mean we throw out all discussion and striving for truth. He is infinite and omnipotent- He gave us His word and our minds.

I like finding things like this, because it's nice to see that I do have intelligent thought once in while (hardy har har) but these issues are an ongoing debate/investigation in my head, so finding things like this remind me of moments of clarity and also spur me on to further thought.

Listen Up

If you haven't yet listened to the podcasts at Nuclearity.org I highly suggest that you get on it. The mastermind is Hugh Duncan, a boy (well, man now) that I luuurved for at least 4 years when I was just a wee lass (Jr. & Sr. High) and God has just poured a big ol' bucket of talent out on him.

I suppose that it could most easily be described as a short, Christian, This American Life, but that's not completely fair. It is its own thing. I am consistently amazed by Hugh's insights, the interviews he gets (NT Wright!), and his skill in putting together an entertaining, thoughtful, musical program. His official target is Christian families, especially those who may grow weary of the shiny sameness of Christian radio, TV, etc, but basically, if you enjoy thinking or listening, you'll like at least some of the episodes.

An Answer to Prayer

A few weeks ago, in one of our small group Bible studies, we did an exercise where we went around the room and everyone said two things to describe one person at a time. When the group started describing me, I was trying to will my husband (or anyone, really) into saying "smart". Smart and funny are how I have always defined myself, and what I rely upon to make me valuable or to give me comfort. In the end, no one said that I was smart, but what they did say was amazing- pretty much every person described me as "loving", "welcoming", or something like that.

It took me a couple of hours, but I realized that God had placed right in my lap an answer to prayer. For about 6 years, I have been praying for God to reduce me to love. I want to see people how He does and just let His love come pouring out of me. I've prayed this desperately, not ever knowing if I was getting any closer. Am I completely loving? Hell, no. I'm still the cranky bitch that most of my old friends think of when they hear my name, but I'm way better. I'm acting out love more often, even when I don't feel it- the Holy Spirit is checking my mouth and motivations more often, and I'm not at all the same person I was even just last year.

And because God loves me so much, one of my friends from that group came up to me this past Saturday and told me that if we were to do the exercise again, she would definitely say that I'm smart. ;)

Some Descriptive Words

I'm a born-again, tree-hugging, bilingual, semi-liberal, tv-watching, Bible-thumping, tongue-talking, feminist, dieting, obedient, loving, sarcastic, gay-friendly, poor, pro-family, non-violent, animal-loving, against capital punishment, anti-abortion, unity-seeking, rich, evangelical minded, married, sentimental, romance novel-reading, racing, volunteering, working, seminarian, conflicted, Irish/Finnish/German-American who isn't quite sure what "patriotism" means, at least to me, happy, anti-social, social butterfly, language geek.

What I've learned taking Biblical/Koine Greek

I really love Spanish.

Chubby girl with caffeine, cereal, and index cards*

I often look at my purchases when they're laying on the conveyor belt at the grocery store and wonder what they say about me. I'm happy when I have mostly fruit and vegetables, not so thrilled when I have Coke, cheese x 4, meat x 2, and ice cream. I usually take the time to look at the patrons in front of and behind me, to see what their life looks like. Here's what I saw the other night:

Middle-aged man, gray hair, button shirt, banker type. 1 chunk Parmesan cheese, 1 US Weekly, 10 cans cat food. I don't even have to make up a story about him. It's all just right there.
Young-ish couple, probably on their first date. 2 bottles of wine. They? are clearly going back to his house to do it and continue their banal conversation about how fat Britney is, but she's his "gurl"-all in their stereotypical, California, Valley Girl accents. Please know that they were in no way young enough or ethnic enough to get away with any of their conversation. This was Ken and Barbie.

Do tell! What was your last grocery theme?

*liquid chai, powdered chai, diet coke, regular coke, index cards, store brand honey nut o's. The 1st three beverages were for husband of mine.

Sonoma County Smells Like Poop

Goooooooooo, harvest!

Augustana's "Boston"

I really like this song quite a lot. Part of it is the soothing quality it has and the fact that it talks about California, even if the heroine in the song is tired of California, but what I really appreciate is the quality of the lyrics and the picture they paint. I don't know about you, but I can totally see everything the song is talking about and I can extend the story they tell and actually visualize the girl and what she looks like, how she feels- as if the song is a movie itself. And I'm writing this without having watched the video yet, so I'll see if it fits my vision of the song.

*eta- I just watched the video and it has no story. So just listen to the words or stare at the semi-handsome man playing the piano in the surf.

Celebrities are people, too.

I really do believe this. You may remember when I was saddened by the divorce of Reese & Ryan, and I felt maybe a little stupid about being so invested in them, but I'm here to defend myself! My theory: perhaps I'm a better person than you.

I kid. I just mean that while most people subconsciously tend to turn celebrities into commodities, I guess that I continue to hope that they'll behave like human beings with hearts, souls, and brains. So, when something happens to them, it does disappoint me. I don't want people to hurt- not that I'm saying you do- I'm just one of those heart on my sleeve sort of gals, something which has become more obvious to me of late, but I'll get to that another time.

Anyway, today's sadness is about Owen Wilson. Simply put, suicide breaks my heart and it makes me so sad that he tried to do it. As one who has attempted it, I know some of the thoughts and heart conditions that are probably there, and I don't want anyone to feel like that. I'm sad whenever I hear of anyone killing themselves, but I guess since we think that we know celebrities a little bit- at least a portion of their personalities, my mind tends to think, "No! But he seemed okay!" But what do I know?

Stores that do not build my self-esteem

Sure, like most unskinny girls, I don't love shopping for clothes and looking at myself in the stores, but mall stores and such really aren't the ones that fill me with doubt or loathing. What does that are sporting goods stores and music (as in instruments) stores.

Husband and I have always loved sporting goods stores, even before we did anything remotely athletic. We embraced our poseur status in the past, but even now that we are quasi-athletes, I always feel like I should or could be doing MORE when I go into those stores. I see all the different sports represented or the cycling accoutrements* and I just think of time squandered over the years. I have a struggle every now and then with those feelings and I have to remind myself that it is not at all too late to do these things, and I'm already on the path to new adventures and I just need to be patient and appreciate where I am.

But talk about wasted time- sheesh. I feel basically like pond scum when I go into a music store like we did today. One one hand, you have the instruments that I would love to play- pianos, cellos, heck- I'd take pretty much anything and give it a whirl. But then those wants lead right over to the Other Hand- the instruments I already have and don't practice. I see prettier guitars than mine, song books I'd love to play, orchestral music for my clarinet- and I just feel like I'm wasting an awful lot of what I've been given.

Maybe I need to pack away the computer and TV for a few months. Put them on time locks so that I can only do my homework and check my e-mail once per day. Have an automatic ejector seat built into my recliner when I've sat for too long.

*please pronounce a la francaise, s'il vous plait. Even in your head.

The Bathroom at the Mall

For some reason, it's quite humid and I always seem to go in right after someone has pooped.
I hate that.

Good times, great taste

Last night was Mojito Monday at the home of some guys from church, and it was great fun. As a cheap drunk, I was tipsy after the first delicious beverage, therefore making the participation in karaoke that much easier.
As Seth and I were leaving, I wanted to get a video of the house from the outside just to capture how much fun it is and the happy place I'm in. You could hear the music and everyone singing from across the street and a little way down, and the curtains and front door were open wide so that you could see the crowd of silly people dancing and singing in the living room. Just great.

In other fun news, last weekend after church we went to the home of some newlyweds and watched a movie in their backyard. There were about eight of us, so the boys moved the couch and all the chairs they could find out on the deck. We snuggled under sleeping bags and watched Nacho Libre on a projector screen under the stars. It's not that you couldn't do this in Texas or Michigan, but people just don't seem to do it much, and the weather makes it possible here for pretty much the entire year. After the movie, we sat and stared at the stars for a while- you can see a ton of stars out here. Lovely lovely.

This Saturday, we are learning to rock climb, which will be..great? Yes. Great and fun. I wanted to learn before we go to Yosemite and I have to try in front of a group. This way, I can either be an old pro or choose to not do it!

Random Hooha Thoughts

I haven't posted anything in a while, so I thought that I'd just have a post full of non-sequiturs, if that's alright with you.

*It's interesting how musical tastes change. As I mentioned some months ago, I found myself not settling, but happily leaving the radio on Journey while driving through SF. Well, my CD player was revolting against the heat in Sacramento last week, so I was going through the channels and for the first time EVER, I promise, I left on "Runaway Train" by Soul Asylum. I never liked this song, but I guess that you really couldn't get away from it when it came out, because not only did I listen to it, but I knew EVERY WORD. Scary. I blame WUMD and the amount of time I spent sitting in the u-mall skipping classes.

*Heat. Holy cow, am I glad we don't live in the Sacramento area!! Seth has the opportunity to transfer over there, and we very briefly thought about it because we could live by our family, but we decided not to. Our decision was initially based on the fact that we have a great life over here- church, friends, my "jobs", etc. But now I'll add a hearty "No frikkin' way!" due to the heat. The first night I was sleeping there for class, I was so hot in one cousin's room, and so I thought that I'd open the sliding door to get some breeze. Nope. No breeze. No cooler outside than inside. The fact that it really doesn't cool down at night just boggles my brain. Also, it's always about 10 degrees hotter over there. So, I got to drive to class every evening with no a/c in my car in the 95-105 degree heat. Oh, I was sexy. We won't speak of the nearly 3 hour drive from class to home/church on the first Saturday.

*California drivers don't seem to know how to merge. It just isn't in their makeup. Perhaps they don't teach it in driver's ed? Don't get me wrong- things are much nicer here than in Detroit. People in Michigan are angry and aggressive and it's just stressful to drive there, but Californians seem to lack this basic skill, and it leads to giant traffic jams. Whenever there is a popular exit or freeways coming together, it gets really ugly for a while. The drivers just don't seem to be able to grasp two things: you SPEED UP to get on the freeway, and if I want to get over there, and you want to get over here, it SHOULD be a smooth operation!

*My first class in seminary was really awesome. I learned a lot about Israel and my eyes were just opened up to many things. I can read the Old Testament and when they mention cities and roads and kingdoms, I can think, "I know where that is!" Just by having the crudest mental map in my head, the stories themselves make more sense and are more real to me now. I also understand more of the constant turmoil of that land, including the fights still going on.

*Lordy, I love California! If you haven't been yet, wander over to Ringo and look at my recent pictures. There are pics of Donner Lake and Reno (which is Nevada, yes, but also wonderful), and also of our bonfire on the beach with church.

*I cut my hair all off, so I don't look like any of the pictures there. It actually came off in stages, and I was stupid and didn't get pictures of the stages. I was going for something punk-rock, but I think it was more white trash. Now it's girly and pixie-ish, but I have to wear makeup more often or I'll look like a boy. I need to work on the details a bit, because although I looked cute, I also kept reminding myself of Erin Moran. Ooh, scary. Looking at that picture, that's almost exactly what my hair looked like yesterday. Perhaps a tad shorter, more product for messiness, or cutting the curly ones at the neck off.

*Look at my training diary. (there's a link on the left). We ran in a race a couple weeks ago.

*I love Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

*I just ate a chocolate pudding jelly bean and it was pretty good.

Alright, it appears that I'm getting a bit thin on material, so I'll wrap it up. If you read my blog, for the love of Pete, leave a comment!

No, really. (More about Harry Potter)

I CANNOT get over how much the significance of Sirius's death was trampled. In reading the books, we know and love these characters more than you can by only watching the movies, so if you haven't read them, I don't think you can understand just how much we were all invested in Harry actually having Sirius as his godfather. A real family member who loves him. We were always just waiting for the day when Harry could go live with him and finally be happy.
This is why it was so mortifying when he died. I think that many of us yelled, "No!" when we read it and, like Harry, were really hoping that something could be done to change that fact.

I don't think that the movies built up this relationship enough, and this latest movie, especially, did little more than throw a few bones towards the concept. The one scene was touching when Harry finally saw Sirius and his face lit up and they hugged, with Sirius giving some throwaway line about them being a family after all this is over, but that was about it. They loved each other very much! They meant THE WORLD to one another and represented very heavy things- Sirius's vindication; the child of his beloved, betrayed friends; a family chosen for him where he is accepted and justified (for both of them); a real connection to his parents for Harry; and not least of all, a chance for a semi-normal life. So why is it that, as my husband says, Harry "handled that pretty well" when Sirius died? It was so quick and wimpy, and they discarded Harry's reaction from the book, so that we were left with the impression that it was a fast, painless death, and Harry quickly moved on from it.

I'll repeat my feelings from my last post: argh!!!!!

Order of the Caca

We just got back from seeing Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix and I must say that I am sorely disappointed. I would say that with about an hour left in the movie, a sadness started settling into my heart about how they were botching the movie.

You see, OotP is probably my favorite of the books. Although it was very hard to deal with Harry's attitude the first time around, it all made sense. The book mattered and important things happened in it- things that were life-changing for Harry and all of his friends. The movie, on the other hand, was not important at all. It treated these events flippantly and the movie has none of the tone, tension, or import of the book.

I know that books are something special and that I shouldn't expect movies to live up to the books. I'm aware of this, but that doesn't stop me from getting my hopes up. I love these books so much, and when movies are being made from them, it is natural to be excited. All the things we've all imagined and enjoyed, the characters we love, are almost becoming real! That's why it's so disheartening when they get it wrong. It's as if someone told me they had a picture of my grandma that I never saw, and when I saw it finally, I had to hang my head and say, "That looks nothing like her! You've got it all wrong!"

I guess that I was too hopeful after the Goblet of Fire. I have come, in time, to like the Prisoner of Azkaban, but when I saw GoF in the theater, I was so excited. Even though they had to cut out a lot, I felt like they had finally gotten it right. OotP, on the other hand, just has too much important stuff to cut out. They just couldn't do it with cutting so much. I mean, if friggin' Pirates of the Caribbean 3 (electric jamboree?) can be almost 3 hours long, why can't this movie? They're not going to lose their fan base if the movie is a bit longer!

Spoilers ahead! Specific Complaints (not artfully written):

*The house is sooooo important! And the things that go on there. What the heck?
*Harry's brattiness, while refreshing in it's absence, is still important. It matters for Harry as a character that he wouldn't practice his occulemency. He knew it was important, and his teenage doofus self wouldn't practice. And he paid for it. My husband, who hasn't read the books, actually just thought that all that was about occulemency being hard. Yes, it is, but that's not all it was.
*Why have Luna in the movie at all if you're not going to actually have her do anything?
*Always nice to see less of Malfoy. (not a complaint. I'm throwing a praise in.)
*THE BEST PART OF THE BOOK (okay, or maybe just my favorite) WAS THE SHEER VOLUME OF FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY!! Where was that in the movie? Argh.
*Um, swamp? Hello? Argh argh.
*Prophecy and Neville?
*They completely slaughtered the power of Sirius's death. Flushed it right down the tubes.

Mostly my complaint is with the tone of the movie versus the book. I think that they were trying too hard to make this a children's movie, and that killed the spirit. And yet, they tried to sprinkle the darkness in here and there. It didn't work.

/END RANT/

Things I did today (which you may not have)

Used a port-a-potty
Rode on a boat
Ate expensive chocolate
Rode on a subway
Saw the sunset on water

Mixed Messages Much?

As I was walking through the mall last night, I noticed a group of teenagers standing in front of one of those rotating billboard things- you know, where the pictures are on a reel or something and roll up to the next one? So, the first image I see is a picture of a lovely little girl, book for a brain, with the well-known phrase "A Mind is a Terrible Thing to Waste". Cool.

What is the next image? This movie ad.

Right away, it just put a sad, sick feeling in my stomach. The question that I wanted to shout to no one in particular was, "Which is it? Which image do you want?" It can't be both.

Media/Hollywood/the Machine/The Man/.... wants to encourage children to learn, to be pure, to be brave and believe they can do great things-especially girls- but then they basically get the message that once they're 15 or so, they are objects. They are possessions of men, things to look at, variables to be controlled.

I pray for the parents out there. I pray that they will find the right words and attitudes to impress upon their children- especially boys- that treating people like objects is not okay. That it dehumanizes us all and denies what God has made us to be. And here I'm not only speaking to the objectification of girls, but also to the whole concept of these gruesome new batch of movies. Why exactly is torture so hip right now? Don't give me some psychological schtick about the war and how the art is simply reflecting reality. Teenagers aren't watching the news; aren't responding to it like that.

These are symptoms. The movies, the enjoyment of grisly shit, the actual torture going on in the world. Symptoms. We are dehumanizing one another on a daily basis and it leaks out in these ugly and horrific ways.

I'd rather encourage the little girl with books on the brain, but I guess that's just me.
(Yes. abrupt ending. but i was in danger of going on a rant that I'm not prepared to finish right now.)
Read this book for the seeds of some of these thoughts.

Still to come: thoughts after finishing Six Feet Under, and my time with my girls.

Open mic night in my living room

close to my right ear
red bump almost makes my face
one gigantic zit


i love the puff's plus
my red nose needs the moisture
i'm tired of sickness

A complaint-free quarter?

I have had this bracelet for about five months.
The longest I have gone is twelve days, but since then, it's been two or three.
I removed it for a while because I was tired of it being on my body, but I've put it back on again. It doesn't seem to be making a big dent.

I'm definitely more aware now and certainly complain less about big things or things in my important relationships, but I'm not finding myself very aware of the bracelet/mission with everyday griping-type issues. I've been a smidge crabby in my head for the past few days, and it bugs me a bit.

What shall I do? First, I shall wait out my hormones- they're in high tide right now. Second, I shall pray for help, because this surely isn't an impossible task with the superduo of me & the Holy Spirit! WonderTwin powers, activate! Take the form of- Gratitude!!

Granny Panties

A list of things that are disheartening for a girl:

Feeling the need to buy underwear that is quite large.
Wearing said underwear in front of your husband before realizing that it's too big.
Guilt over the money spent on the underwear causing you to not throw it away.
Revulsion every time the underwear is seen.
Grabbing the underwear in desperation and finding that it no longer is all that large.
Not being entirely sure whether the underwear has shrunk or you have grown.

Peee-ew!

I had heard numerous references to the "Sonoma Aroma" through the past year and a half, but I never really figured it out or truly experienced it until this week. The aroma is twofold:

1) Cows. Manure. Horses. Yumm-o. I live in the city, so I haven't really experienced this too much in my daily travels. I mean, I deal with dog and nursing home smell, but not the overpowering, plug your nose while driving and speed up smell that is a mere two minutes down the road from my home. My dog's vet is in the midst of this smell, and I tell you that it was not nice. (The city is small. The fields are near.)

2) Body Odor. I just never made the connection before, even though I knew that there were more hippies and homeless people here than I've ever been exposed to, and I also knew that I avoided standing too near some people at church. But it was really brought home to me Thursday when I was sitting in a coffee shop with a friend, and more than coffee, I smelled the low-level but everywhere presence of b.o.

Ah, California. I love it, so I deal with the stink! :)

Oh, I have arrived

Folks may or may not remember an earlier post where I mentioned never running into people I grew up with now that I've moved across the country. But I've finally, after only a year and a half, crossed the threshold into the land of Knowing People and Being From Here. (I'm sure there's a catchier name for it, but it's really late and I should be in bed. I just want to post some stuff!)

My point is that I quite regularly see people I know when I'm out and about now. And it really only has been in the last couple months. It's quite grand. Today at the awkward fair, I saw...six people I knew. Yes, they were all from ADI, but they were in separate groups! And I knew them!

p.s. Sending overly generous brainwaves to the pres. of ADI because they need more students for the 6-week service dog training seminar this summer, and they offered me a deal that I still couldn't take while saving for other things. So! My brainwaves and subliminal chants are for B to have a wild hair and tell me I can go for free!! It could happen! ~~~Free~~~Free!! Let her go for free~~~~

Busy busy

I know that I'm not as busy as you. Or you. But I am quite the busy girl lately, and it's mostly good. Every once in a while I get a little whiny about having leave the house for a whopping 2 hours to do something I committed to doing, but I can pretty much snap out of that one pretty quickly.

I have also had another epiphany about my role as stay-at-home-sometimes wife. Yes, I claimed to be over feeling guilty about things already once, but now I really don't feel guilty. I realized that while I don't have a spotless house- I always have to do a headless-chicken cleaning dash before anyone comes over- pretty much everything that needs to be done here is done by me. And that's totally fine with me. Mr. Man brings home the bacon, and I may or may not fry it, and I'll probably wait a couple days to clean the pan, but eventually I'll do it and a bunch of other stuff that doesn't even enter his radar.

What was interesting about this train of thought is that it not only helped me to not feel guilty about not having a perfect house, but it also made me feel better about the things that I do and has helped me let go of wanting him to do pretty much anything. If he leaves his socks on the floor today, tomorrow, and the next day, it's no big whoop. I can pick up my husband's stinkin' socks. It takes about a second, and I love him, so why fight about it?

Back to busy bee: I went to 6 (SIX) stores the other day- four of those were for necessities and in pursuit of deals. Oy. I felt like M's boyfriend, L. "But with the coupon I have and the sale they're having, it's FREE!" Those six stores were in multiple trips to and from the house, and around BINGO, an online Bible study chat, and taking the dog to the vet to get her nails cut. And skipping an in-person Bible study at church that bores me a little bit. (See!! I'm terrible, Muriel.)

I suppose that if you were to get all analytical on me, you wouldn't have to go that deep to find that I'm doing some sort of justification ritual whereby I whine about how busy I am so that I will feel more valuable. Sodding Protestant work ethic. But I really don't mind the New Active Lifestyle (can I wear a track suit?) that I have- it feels good after being in an inward-focused phase for so long. I suppose that all of the learning and changing I was doing had to go somewhere outside of the house eventually!

AWKward!

So, I'm trying to put myself out there- helping with things at church, walking the talk, blah blah blah, getting used to busy life, but tonight wasn't great.

A group from my church has a booth at the weekly fair here in town, and they hand out water to people and pray with people. Fair enough. It seems to do a lot of good, and I knew they'd need help, so I signed up for a lot of weeks.

BUT (obviously, you knew this was coming) I'm really not cut out for it. I just really felt strange, like a cult member, trying to lure folks over with the water and then spring the prayer option on them in the approved wording to reach the New Age-y masses of Sonoma County.

It is not anything wrong in what we're doing, it's just me. We're not a cult, and we just want to give people the water and I guess that last summer many people wanted prayer and always felt good about it. I love talking to people about God and Jesus, it's just that the context basically makes it street witnessing, which you may know is NOT my bag. (Oh, I'll be more churchy and say, um, it's not a gift of mine. Calling. Strength. WHATEVER.)

Then, of course, I have the moment of doubt and guilt, "Oh, am I ashamed of my Lord before men!! (Wailing and gnashing of teeth goes on here. Internally.) I know that I comfortably worked the booth for Team in Training last summer, and I'll probably help with the Assistance Dog booth, so why not good ol' JC, who I think is more important than anything? Some of it is the manner and vocabulary that is the preferred method of delivery. A well-thought out delivery, and it works great for others, but it just felt so false for me. I prefer to have long conversations about life and have relationships with people wherein everything about me (oh, at least 50% of me) is a good witness to hope, instead of just jumping someone with, "Do you know Jesus Christ as your personal savior?" (Oh, should I have capitalized "savior"? Am I going to hell for that?)

I also wasn't completely comfy with the TNT booth when they wanted us to be assertive and try to get people's attention. "Um, I'll sit behind the table and smile to people, 'kay? Great."
And the ADI booth will have puppies and service dogs- it pretty much sells itself.

So, will I never tell a stranger the Good News? Ah. I don't know. Maybe it's something I'll grow into. I'll get past some point and learn how to do it with confidence. Maybe I won't- I'll keep watering seeds that others planted. I just don't want to be shuttering my mind and heart from things just because they're out of my comfort zone. Until then, I'll be the one wandering around, praying quietly for everyone I see.

It has been a while

I've had lots of things going on- big and small- and thoughts will come to me now and then and I think, "Oh, I need to blog that!" Alas, I quickly forget them. I'm usually quite good at being a list maker- I guess that I need to start jotting down my blog ideas.
Anyway, enough babbling. I just wanted to post this:

Relevant

Psalm 32
1 Blessed is he
whose transgressions are forgiven,
whose sins are covered.

2 Blessed is the man
whose sin the LORD does not count against him
and in whose spirit is no deceit.

3 When I kept silent,
my bones wasted away
through my groaning all day long.

4 For day and night
your hand was heavy upon me;
my strength was sapped
as in the heat of summer.
Selah

5 Then I acknowledged my sin to you
and did not cover up my iniquity.
I said, "I will confess
my transgressions to the LORD "—
and you forgave
the guilt of my sin.
Selah

6 Therefore let everyone who is godly pray to you
while you may be found;
surely when the mighty waters rise,
they will not reach him.

7 You are my hiding place;
you will protect me from trouble
and surround me with songs of deliverance.
Selah

8 I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go;
I will counsel you and watch over you.

9 Do not be like the horse or the mule,
which have no understanding
but must be controlled by bit and bridle
or they will not come to you.

10 Many are the woes of the wicked,
but the LORD's unfailing love
surrounds the man who trusts in him.

11 Rejoice in the LORD and be glad, you righteous;
sing, all you who are upright in heart!

Don't I know you from somewhere?

As I sat in the waiting area of the tire shop the other day, a guy sat down and I looked at him for a second to see if I knew him. My thought was along the lines of, "Do I know you from when we were young or something?" The thing is- that's not going to happen anymore. I hardly know anyone in California, and I'm not sure how I feel about that.

It's not an unmoored feeling or anything. I just find it odd. It is highly improbable that I'm going to run into someone from elementary school, heck, even college is unlikely! It just so happens that someone from college lives 3 hours away, but I still doubt that we are going to accidentally run into each other. I am separated from my past- my life here is just over a year old.

We are finally getting to the place where it's likely we'll run into someone we know- someone from church, work, volunteering, etc, but there won't be any meetings filled with faces scrunched up in thought, followed by the revelatory, "Ah! That's it! You're so and so!"

In California, I know who I know, for the most part. The plus side of this is: if I do happen to run into someone from the past, it will be a REALLY big deal. Even if it's just the guy who used to come into the store where I worked. It'll be worth it.

Sight-seeing

My mom was just in town for a week and I really feel that there ought to be a post in there somewhere, but I just can't come up with anything. Here goes:
It was really cool to have her here and show here all of my favorite views, people, and places, but it was also tiring. You may know that I don't like having lots of plans, so having something to do every day for over a week was trying at times. Nothing major, but I did have a bout of Killer Fatigue (tm Miss Alli) about 5 days in, but that was also partly my own fault for driving a friend to the airport at the bcod.
My mom and I had a lot of fun- lots of eating out, a blur of people and dogs to introduce to her, lots of pictures taken out of the window of my moving car. "Do you want me to stop?" "No, no. I got it!" (Apparently she did always get it. She says that all of her pictures came out. Sweet!)
Her last night here, we went into the city and spent the night at Fisherman's Wharf. She got to eat crab, we bought toursity t-shirts, saw sea lions, and even got to take a cable car over to Union Square. It was cool to be out and about at night; walking around and seeing new things.
At home, my mom hardly leaves the house after dark, so I was glad that I was able to put her in new situations and that she loved them all. It's always great to hear that the people and places you love are just as great in someone else's eyes as they are in yours.

Classic Rock Gene

I've been wondering if there is something genetic about liking classic rock. Maybe a gene that gets turned on as you age, as your cells decay, the desire for smooth male harmonies and screechy guitars increases.

I have always categorically detested classic rock- Led Zeppelin was the only exception because they are their own category- but my resistance seems to be wearing thin and this annoys me. Yesterday, while in the car, the opening notes of "Wheel in the Sky" came on and I actually thought, "Hmm. Good I'll leave it." I left it, and I sang. And I was frightened.

Admittedly, I was desperate- San Francisco really doesn't have any good radio stations for a big city, but it's not the only time that I haven't immediately kept scanning when faced with something my parents would have loved for most of their young adulthoods.

There is a series of lines, though, that will alert me to my continued decline, should I require an intervention. First stage is ZZ Top. That stage is pretty far along, but my husband is aware and will know to be worried the day I let ZZ Top stay on the radio. Next comes Bob Seger, and the last stage- the one where you know that I will never be coming back- that stage is AC/DC. Let's pray that it doesn't get that far.

Late to the party

Now, it's not entirely my fault, because I had never actually heard her before, but I justnow discovered Nina Simone and now I get it! Wow. It's just something about her voice that immediately grabs me. Again- wow. I know- I've wasted all these years not listening to her. I'm a stupid human being that just became the tiniest little bit more Real Girl.